The Monster
by Jessica Cornell
Summary: Takes place a year after episode 12 and explores what John meant when he said Jane met with a fate worse than death. Mature themes.
1. Chapter 1

**So, this went in entirely different direction than when I first started. I was going to go majorly dark but decided to change it up last minute. There are mentions of rape and threatening, just a warning. I have no idea if anyone will even like this but I wrote it and decided to post it anyway. Enjoy… or not. :)**

_He inhaled with a slow smile. "Jane. Now there's a name I know well. Oh, she's not dead. There are things far worse than death, wouldn't you agree?"_

2017, 1 year after HG left in the time machine

Jane unlocked the door to her apartment and tossed the keys onto a white porcelain dish on a table near the entrance. It was dark inside but she wasn't afraid. After her near death experiences with HG and John Stevenson, normal life seemed mundane.

Not for the first time she wondered what he was doing. How he was doing? Had he met his future wife yet?

"Idiot," she muttered. "Of course he has. He's already been dead for seventy years." That brought a pang to her heart and she made a beeline for the fridge, for the cold beer that she'd taken to keeping on hand. She opened the door and took a cold one out, popping the top and drinking deeply.

"Taken up drinking, have we?"

She yelped and dropped her bottle on the floor. Her heart pounded in her chest as she moved directly toward the sound of the voice. No, it can't be, she told herself. John's dead. He's dead.

"I'm most certainly _not _dead, if that's what you're thinking." A tall broad-shoulder man stepped out from the shadows and showed his face.

"John," she whispered, going numb from shock.

He smirked and moved closer. "Jane. It's good to see you."

"How?" was all she could ask when she found her voice. "You were dead. They took your body."

He smiled briefly. "You forget, Jane, I'm unique. The details are boring but suffice it to say that I am very much alive."

"What do you want? HG is gone." She backed away slowly as he kept walking toward the kitchen. Toward her.

"Yes, I know. I'm glad. Now I have you all to myself." He smiled again but this time it didn't reach his eyes.

She calculated how long it would take her to reach her front door, unlock it, and run for help. Could she make it past him?

"You can try, but you won't make it."

Panic was starting to push through her dulled senses. "What do you want?" she repeated, looking around for anything she could use to defend herself.

"I thought I made that clear. I want _you_."

She frowned. "What?" Then understanding dawned. "You want to kill me. Because I let the FBI take you. For some sick revenge on HG."

John's dark eyes flashed in the dim lighting of her kitchen. "You never appreciated the restraint I showed you. The effort I put in to helping you. Never. No, Jane, I'm not going to kill you, but you are right about one thing. I am here for revenge. But it has nothing to do with HG."

Confusion made her disoriented momentarily, enough to allow one of John's men to sneak up behind her and jab a needle into the side of her neck.

She gasped in pain and looked at John, betrayed and hurt, before everything went dark.

When she woke up, she was on a double bed in an otherwise empty room. There were no windows, no furniture, nothing.

She stood up on wobbly legs and almost fainted from the rush to her head. Pushing off from the bedframe, she made her way to the door. Of course, it was locked and she had no strength to beat on it.

"Please," she whispered faintly, groping her way back to the bed and knowing no one could hear her.

But then someone did because the door opened. John walked in and then shut it behind him, locking it effectively.

"Where am I?" she asked, forcing her voice to sound stronger. She resisted the urge to lie down on her side to relieve the nausea.

"You're in a house on my property."

"What am I doing here?"

John came to stand right in front of her and then bent down so that he was eye level. "You're here because I wish it. Because I now hold your life in my hands." He reached out to brush her hair behind her ear and she ducked away. He grabbed the back of her head hard, yanking her to him. "I'd play nice, if I were you."

"If you're not going to kill me, what are you going to do? Keep me here forever?"

He chuckled and leaned forward. She moved back but he didn't stop. When she felt herself cornered by him and the bed, she half rolled to get away but he easily pinned her down to the mattress and held her still. "For as long as I can control myself anyway."

Deliberately, he moved his pelvis down and against her lower body, grinning when her expression turned to shock. She went very still, never taking her eyes off his.

"I think you understand?" he asked.

"No, why? What? Why?" She stammered out her responses. He couldn't be talking about what she thought he was, could he? "You hate me. I was there when you died."

He nodded slowly. "Yes, I do hate you. I want to hurt you like you hurt me. When we're together, I want you to think of HG and compare me to him. Compare his soft caresses to my brutal grip. Think of how nice and boring it was with him. How much he loved you. And what he left you to. A monster, Jane."

She choked on her tears. "How did I hurt you? How _could_ I?"

He inhaled deeply and lowered his head to taste the salty wetness on her cheeks. His lips pressed ever so gently against her skin and then he licked the taste away. She was his now. Forever.

With a hard grip, he dug his fingers into her face. Sparing her one last long look, he shoved down the brief moment of guilt, and kissed her hard on the mouth. She struggled against him but in her weakened state it was no use.

The old familiar darkness reared its head, howling in delight. There was no waiting. It wouldn't let him. _Take her now, now, now, now_, it chanted inside his head.

John broke off the kiss and sat back on her upper thighs, straddling her. There was no feeling in his eyes, no warmth on his face. Whatever complex relationship they'd had in the past, it was not enough to save her now.

"Is it… is it because I chose HG over you?" she whispered.

He stopped all movements with an abrupt pause. His face went blank. "I beg your pardon?"

She merely looked at him, sudden realization washing over her. Did he… had he-_loved _her? Or whatever approximation equated to love in his mind? Her mind whirled, sifting through every memory she had of him. Going over every last detail until she arrived at one startling conclusion- Yes.

Or at least, she was pretty sure he'd felt _something_ akin to love. Maybe lust? A kind of respect?

But whatever he'd felt for her, was it enough to save her now? Looking up at his surprised expression, she wasn't sure, but at least it wasn't the flat black of his eyes before.

"Are you doing this because I chose to go back to HG, even after what he did to you on Monroe's island? After he lied to me about it?" She made sure to keep her voice soft and steady.

He sneered. "I must admit, your actions slightly irritated me. After all, had it been me, I wager I would never have heard the end of it. John, how could you?" he mimicked. "John, you didn't have to kill him! John, you lied to me!" He leaned down over her, bracing his weight on his hands on either side of face. "It makes me sick."

"I hurt your feelings," she surmised.

He furrowed his brow, and then made a face. "I don't have feelings. At least, not the kind you're trying to insinuate."

Part of her figured that was true. Had he ever loved anything in his entire life?

"Maybe not," she answered. "But the fact remains that I hurt you in some way and you're lashing out now. Trying to hurt me too."

"I simply want to show you how wrong you were to go against me. If you desire to make up some fairytale in your mind about the reasons why, then be my guest. It won't change your fate."

He was so angry, she thought, staring up at him. How can I calm him down enough to get myself out of this situation?

Taking a deep breath, she spoke. "You're right. I never acknowledged all the good you did, which was wrong of me. I was … afraid."

"Afraid? Of what?" He looked puzzled and faintly suspicious.

Her cheeks burned with embarrassment but it had to be said. And she had to be honest or he would know and kill her for sure. Or worse. "When I first-_encountered_ you, I hated you. I was terrified you were going to kill me and that girl you'd taken. You were the bad guy and HG was the good guy. It was easy to choose sides." She thought back to the first moment she realized maybe he wasn't pure evil. "But you didn't kill me. More importantly, you didn't kill her. I begged you not to and you didn't. You'll never know what that meant to me."

John's face bore a host of emotions at her admission. Anger, vindication, sadness, and spark of something akin to hope. "And you'll never know how much that one act of mercy cost me. It was painful, Jane. Like being clawed apart from the inside. But did you care? Did HG? No. You treated me with contempt."

"I know," she said quickly. "I know that now, but at the time I was confused."

He leaned closer. "I helped you save HG in the 1914 and for my reward I was chained to a wall in a room."

She needed to be honest or he would never believe her. "I'm not sorry about that," she said quickly, "but I am sorry for the things I said to you the night Brooke came. You were trying to save my life-you _did_ save my life-and I wasn't grateful. Over and over. I told you you could change and then refused to acknowledge when you did."

"And why is that, Jane? What is the point of all this?" As much as he loved hearing about all her wrongs and all his rights, he was impatient to begin his work. Except some of the fire had died out now. His heart wasn't as in to hurting Jane as before. Dammit it all.

"The point is that I was wrong and I'm sorry."

"I appreciate your honesty, Jane, and I am sure that you _are_ sorry. Now. When it's come to this. But timing matters."

"I've spent the last year missing you," she said quickly.

He paused again. "Excuse me?"

"HG left me. With him, I always had a moral code. The timeline had to be protected, lives had to be saved, _you_ had to be stopped and returned to 1893. There was always something. But then I was alone and all I could think was ... John wouldn't have left." Without even knowing how she dared, she ever so slowly slid one hand around John's wrist up by her head. He tensed and made to pull away but she tightened her grip, drawing his attention. "You would never have left the woman you loved under any circumstances. Not even to save the fabric of time. I wanted that," she admitted, finally.

"What are you saying, Jane," he snarled. "I'm growing tired of listening to the sound of your voice." _That wasn't entirely true_, a tiny voice echoed inside him.

Tears sparkled in her eyes and she knew what she had to do. What she had to say. "I'm saying I wished that I had you instead of him!" she burst out, half-angry, half- embarrassed. She hoped the anger masked the huge lie she had just told. Would he be able to tell?

His eyes widened in shock. A burst of something he rather liked feeling exploded in his chest at her admission. His head swirled, almost dizzy from the sudden change. And then there was Jane, rubbing small circles on the back of his left hand. Deliciously tantalizing him. How could what she was saying be true? "No, that's not right. You think I'm a monster."

"I don't," she whispered. She wanted to say more, but didn't want to overdo it. "You've done some monstrous things, yes, but you've also done some good things. Things I will be eternally grateful for."

Eternally grateful.

_No! She's lying to save herself. She thinks you won't hurt her if she praises you and fills your head with empty words._

Jane, wouldn't lie to him, would she?

_You just threatened to rape her, you imbecile. Of course she would. She only wants to save herself. You can't trust her. She'll be the end of you._

But before he could gather his thoughts, she slid her hand up his arm and around his neck, tugging him down, down, down.

"Kiss me," she whispered. "I'll prove it to you."

And then he was somehow kissing her again, only this time it was different. He was drowning and at her mercy. Her lips were soft and inviting and she _wanted_ him. Waves of emotion crashed over and around him, beating him down into submission. The darkness howled inside him a final time and then was stamped out under the onslaught.

He submitted to her, finally. To her mouth and lips and tongue. Oh, her delicious tongue that was right now slowly licking against his own, causing a ball of white hot lust to slam straight down in his lower belly. He groaned helplessly under her ministrations. One hand tangled in his dark hair while the other caressed the side of his face, pulling him deeper. He couldn't get enough.

And then very suddenly yet still distant, a thought crept in. He was vulnerable. She could plunge a knife into his back and never see it coming, figuratively. And literally, actually. He suddenly realized what she had been doing all along and yanked his head back and away from her. Before she could even protest, he'd whipped the large knife he'd been storing in his waistband out and held it to her neck.

"Is this what you wanted, Jane?" he asked breathlessly, traces of lust still evident in his tone.

Jane was confused. "What?" They were entwined intimately, legs tangled in one another's, and Jane's breasts pressed tight against his chest. She could _feel_ his heartbeat. He was suddenly more human than he'd ever been to her before.

"I know what you were trying to do and you gave a commendable performance, but it sadly fell short." He toyed with a thin gold chain around her neck he hadn't noticed before. It hung around the point of his blade.

"Performance?" she breathed. "What performance?"

His patience snapped suddenly and the point of the knife dug into her throat. "I would quit while you're ahead. What did you expect would happen with your little charade?"

She swallowed, stupidly hurt by his accusation. Idiot, she told herself. It _was_ a charade. At least, it was supposed to be. She took his hand and tried to calm him, but the moment was over and he was having none of it. None of her.

Abruptly, he pushed off of her and stowed the blade. "Well, although it fell short, I suppose your little act did buy you some time. I have work to do."

He'd almost reached the door, hand on handle, when Jane found her voice.

"It wasn't an act."

He paused. She wondered what was going through his head. Then he turned the knob and left. She heard the clicking sound of a lock setting in place and knew that exit wasn't an option for escape.

She ran a hand through her hair and exhaled a breath. She barely escaped whatever hell he'd planned for her by the skin of her teeth. How the hell was she going to get away from him next time?


	2. Chapter 2

**So there is no nice John in this chapter. Just a warning. The chapter is all Jane's POV too, but next chapter we'll get in his head space a bit. **

**()()()()()()()()()()()()**

He'd been gone a week. A guard brought her meals three times a day and took her to the bathroom. That was it. Other than those times, she was alone. She didn't know what she hated more. Having John around or being completely alone all the time.

With all the alone time, she'd managed to cobble together an escape plan of sorts. She could see out of her window that they were in a clearing, surrounded by a wooded area on all sides. If she could make it into the treeline, she'd have a shot at disappearing.

So for every meal, she stowed away the parts of the food that would keep, such as bread and crackers. She knew how to hunt, make a fire, and find water and was counting on those skills when she escaped to keep her alive.

Now she just had to wait for the right time.

Heavy footsteps sounded up the stairs, growing closer. She frowned. No one was supposed to be coming to her room now. It was ten o'clock at night. The door opened.

It was John.

He came in and shut the door. Blood covered his shirt and jacket, which he then shrugged off onto the floor. "Miss me?"

She really hoped that was his blood, but when he started unbuttoning his shirt to take off she could see it was not. "Where have you been?"

He shrugged and made his way over to her. "Having a little fun." He leaned forward and whispered, "You wouldn't approve."

No, she was sure she would not.

Then he focused on her face for the first time and curved a smile. One finger traced from her throat down between her breasts before she smacked his hand away. "Leave me alone."

He laughed. "Are you going to make me?"

She tried to move away, but his hand settled on her hip and held her in place.

"I've missed you, Jane. Haven't you missed me too? After all, you said you liked me before. Remember?"

He was throwing her words back in her face, mocking her. "I never said I liked you."

"Well, you implied it. That wasn't just a ruse to try and get me to let you go was it?"

"Of course not," she lied. Well, it was only a half-lie. Parts of what she'd said were true. There was something about him, maybe his darkness, his struggle to do good, that drew her to him, however unwillingly.

"Oh, good. I was hoping. Come. While I was away, I did some thinking. I've treated you abominably." He stepped aside and gestured toward the door. She didn't move. Was this a trick? "I can't let you go yet, but maybe you can tell me ways I can make your stay here … more comfortable?"

She held her breath. His face was so blank that she couldn't read him. Her instincts warned her not to trust him, but couldn't she really give up this opportunity? Maybe she could get him to let down his guard.

Jane walked forward toward the door and opened it up. There were no guards. Her heart started beating faster. Had he sent them away?

Her room was on the third floor along with two other rooms and a bathroom. Down the stairs, John maintained a close position right behind her.

"Turn left," he told her, guiding her past balcony where she could see a foyer. He quickly prodded her into a much larger room than before. A huge bed lay off to the right with a doorway to the left of it, presumably the master bath, she thought. This was most certainly the master bedroom.

Her eyes widened when she caught sight of several little things of John's scattered about the room. "This is your room."

He wrapped an arm around her from behind, a mockery of a lover's embrace, and spoke in her ear. "Our room."

She broke away. "I'm not sleeping in your bed, John. You'll have to kill me."

He sighed and raised a hand, snapping loudly. Two armed men came in, blank faced and ready. "See the lady to her new … position, if you will."

The men grabbed her before she could get away and pulled her over to a wall next to the bed. John spoke to her all the while, going to a closet and pulling out a clean shirt.

"You know, I learned a few things during the time I was supposedly dead. Before that, Brooke had some great ideas also. Make sure it's tight, boys."

Jane had no idea what he was talking about until she saw a metal chain protruding from a ring mounted on the wall. The chain ended in a metal collar, of sorts, like for a dog. Her eyes widened and she struggled harder to get away. They were going to put that thing on her!

"This way we can always be close," John said cheerfully. "Can't have you wandering away, can we? Oh, a guard found this in your room during one of your bathroom breaks." He held up the napkin she'd been keeping food in and then tossed into a small trash can over by a vanity. Her heart sank and it was just the distraction a guard need to clip the collar around her neck. She tugged but it wouldn't come off.

"Oh, you'll need this to unlock it." John held up a metal key and then tossed onto the dresser far away from her range of motion. "The two of you can go now."

The two men who'd chained her up moved silently out of the room and John shut the door behind them. He walked over to sit on the side of the enormous bed, facing her. Then he leaned back on both hands, apparently relaxed. His dark eyes never wavered from her face.

"Now, if you don't mind, take off your clothes."

She gasped. "What?"

"You heard me. Take your clothes off." When she still didn't obey, he added, "Unless you'd like me to help you?"

"Don't touch me," she hissed.

He cocked his head toward the bedroom door. "Or if you prefer, I could ask my men to come back in and assist?"

Her hands flew up in a protective gesture over her chest. "You wouldn't."

He accepted the challenge, raising his voice and calling out, "Thomas, here. Now!"

Within seconds, one of the men who'd dragged her over to be chained to a wall came in with a stoic expression. "Yeah, Boss?"

"Please divest Miss Walker of her clothes."

Her panic mounted with every step Thomas took. She silently begged John not to do this, her eyes filling up with tears.

He shook his head. "I did give you the choice, Jane."

Thomas didn't look as though he'd particularly enjoy or not enjoy seeing her naked, but he was willing to do his duty. He clamped a hand around her upper arm and she hit him in the face. He stumbled back and looked at his boss.

"Are you willing to cooperate without Thomas' help?" John asked her, losing some of the mirth in his eyes. "Because I am willing to let him break your arm the next time you move. I gave him an order and unless I rescind that order he will obey it."

Thomas moved toward her again and Jane capitulated. "Stop! I'll do what you want."

John held up a hand and Thomas looked at him. "That's all for now, Thomas. Thank you."

Thomas walked out and shut the door. Jane trembled against the wall.

"Well?"

Shaky fingers went to one of her sleeves, tugging it down over her hand. "Why are you doing this?"

"You're a woman, I'm a man. Need I say more?"

"You want to humiliate me."

"That too."

Jane slid her arms out of her long-sleeved cotton shirt and then up over head. She held it like a protective shield over her chest for a moment and then let it drop to the floor. John's eyes gleamed in appreciation. She fumbled at the button to her jeans, trying to delay the inevitable.

Finally, she was in her underwear. She looked up and set her jaw.

He raised a hand to gesture at her bra and panties. "Those are considered clothes too, nowadays, aren't they?"

Now she couldn't stop her tears from spilling over. "I hate you. One day, I'll kill you for this."

His lips curved into a cruel smile. "Until then, you'll do as I say."

Her bra went first, unhooked and dumped on the floor. Then her underwear. She wanted desperately to cover herself with her hands, but somehow that seemed like weakness. So she just stood there, staring at some point across the room, and letting him see her fully. She'd never been so humiliated in her life.

John sat there studying her for a few moments. Then he stood up. She backed away until she couldn't anymore. This time she did cover her breasts with her arms.

He stood close, not touching her but inhaling her scent. His head dipped down close to her neck and hair. "You smell like … Jane." He tugged her arms down and she let him, half afraid that her legs would give out right then. Parts of his shirt scraped against her over sensitive flesh. Something warm melted against her neck and it took her a moment to realize it was his tongue.

She raised a hand to slap him but he easily caught it and shoved it hard against the wall, just by her head.

"Do I need to install manacles, as well?"

"Go to hell."

All she'd managed to do was move his body closer to hers. He was fully pressed against her now, one leg between hers and his face _so_ close. She turned away from it.

"If you're a good girl, I'll give you clothes for tomorrow. If not, well," he _tsked_. "I happen to like you naked."

"What do you want?"

"I want you to stand still and don't interrupt me."

She stood perfectly still until his warm hand settled on her bare hip. Then she struggled once more.

"Jane," he warned. "Remember our deal?"

"I can't just let you touch me," she snapped. "Not when every fiber of my being is screaming in disgust."

He pretended to think on that for a moment, and then shrugged. "Well, I suppose you don't really have to just stand there."

Without any warning, he took her face and turned it to his, capturing her mouth and holding her firmly in place. She was stunned for a moment and half thought he would let her go after a second. But he didn't. His tongue forced her mouth open and then she was drowning. Her body and mind felt sluggish and unable to react. His hand slid up her waist to cup a breast and he deftly maneuvered himself between her legs. Too late, she realized she could've kneed him in the groin.

"Jane," he murmured, moving his mouth down her neck. "You taste delicious." He kneaded her sensitive flesh and bit down at the juncture of her neck and shoulder.

The pain snapped her out of her haze and she suddenly jerked away from him. He pulled her back, his lips shiny from kissing her. "Where do you think you're going?" He swung her around and shoved her onto the bed, turning her face-up, and straddling her hips so that she couldn't use her legs.

He exhaled loudly and ran a hand through his hair, then dropped it to his lap. "I must say I haven't had this much fun in awhile, Jane."

"I was wrong." Her voice was shaky but low.

He ran a hand up her stomach, between her breasts, to wrap loosely around her throat and swung down low. "About what?"

"You _are_ a monster."

He blinked for a moment and she could tell he was angry. Then he relaxed and chuckled. "One day, HG will be back. At some moment in the future, he'll pop back in to see you. Or maybe he'll realize I didn't die like I was supposed to and come back to get me. Either way, we'll see him again and when we do I can't wait to tell him all the ways I made you suffer." He sat back on her, sighed and looked around the room. "Get used to this place, Jane. You'll be seeing it for a very long time."

Then he slid off her and went to the bathroom, leaving her alone to completely fall apart.

**Alright, so not TOO bad but not good either. I don't want John to be so horrible there's no redeeming him and I do think that outright rape is something that would make him irredeemable in Jane's eyes and ours. I mean, of course. **

**I had to take a break from my Game of Thrones fic WHICH I DIDN'T EVEN WANT TO WRITE IN THE PLACE but which has sucked me in. The finale's on tonight so I'll probably grab some inspiration from that and get back to it. But I know there are people waiting for an update on this and didn't want to delay it anymore.**

**Hopefully, John wasn't too horrible. **


	3. Chapter 3

**So I don't know if there are any readers from my other fic Time After Time (I know of a few off the top of my head) BUT I need to reiterate that this John is much darker than that John. There is more swearing and sex in this fic than that one also. Just a heads up. **

John started the shower to mask any sounds and then quickly unzipped his pants, taking care of his needs quick and fast. Feeling Jane beneath his hands-_his body_-after his already entertaining evening, had the effect of arousing him to the point of either taking her by force or doing it this way to relieve himself.

He chose this way. The other seemed too … unsporting, given that he'd chained her up to a wall.

Just because he couldn't (for some fucking _inexplicable_ reason) do the things he wanted to do to her in person, didn't mean he couldn't fantasize about it. It only took a few minutes and then he finished, exhaling in the wake of the incredible rush. His head buzzed for a couple moments until his body was back under his control.

He felt utterly relaxed and turned off the shower.

After one last look at himself in the mirror, he left the bathroom and shut off the light. Immediately, his eyes sought out Jane. She was sitting on the floor, knees drawn to her chest for modesty's sake. He smirked and walked past her, unbuttoning his shirt and pants and dumping them on a nearby chair. Socks went in the basket by the closet and then he was ready for bed.

He took great pleasure in stretching his body, exaggerating the movements to make her feel uncomfortable. Even though she didn't look over, he knew she could see him out of her peripherals. "Care to join me, Jane?" He threw back the covers and moved some pillows around while he waited for her answer.

Of course, none came.

He shrugged and went over to his closet, taking out a peach-colored satin silky thing that he'd bought on impulse earlier. He wondered how much Jane wanted some sort of clothing right now.

Walking over to her, he dangled the nightgown from one finger. "I can give this to you right now, Jane. Do you want it?"

She glared up at him but still didn't answer.

She was intelligent, he reminded himself. She knew there were strings attached. He shrugged and turned around, pretending to leave, knowing she'd call him back.

"Wait," she said suddenly and he stopped, a smile spreading over his face.

He turned around with an innocent expression. "Yes?"

"I want it," she whispered, twisting her body so that all he could see was the sides of her legs and arms and ribs.

He went back to her and crouched down, gripping the flimsy material tight in one hand. "Sure, Jane. I want you to be comfortable." She reached out to take it, but he pulled back. "There's just one thing first."

"What?" she asked in a tight voice.

He turned his head to look at the bed. "You have to sleep there tonight." She looked repulsed and he had to refrain from laughing. "Your choice."

"Won't you hate that?" she asked in a snide tone. "Don't you have issues with … that sort of thing?"

His pseudo-playful veneer slid away. "For you, Jane, I'll deal with it. Make up your mind. You have five seconds. Five, four, three, two, one-"

"Alright, alright," she cut in, grabbing at the nightgown which he let her have. "I'll do it."

"Great," he said and stood up, walking around to 'his' side of the bed and sliding in.

He put both arms behind his head and unabashedly watched her stand up and dress. His cock twitched in his lap as his blood rose momentarily. He really wanted Jane at the moment. To be _inside_ Jane, more specifically. Once that happened, he'd be rid of her of for good. She'd have no more hold over him. And that was something he'd wanted for over a year now.

Some part of him would miss this feeling though.

With clothes on, she was far more daring. She plopped onto the other side of the bed and snapped the covers up to her chin. "Is this good enough for you?" If looks could kill, he'd be dead.

He smiled lazily. "For now. Goodnight, Jane." He snapped off the lights and rolled onto his side, facing away from her. She wouldn't be able to tell if he was awake or asleep and that would keep her from trying anything tonight. If she even moved an inch, he'd feel it.

XXXXX

She'd only just closed her eyes, finally convinced he wouldn't try and touch her tonight, when he suddenly moved in his sleep and scared the bejeezus out of her. She bolted upright and looked over, afraid that he'd decided to finally kill her.

She relaxed when she saw he was still asleep. A crease marred his brow.

Was he having … a nightmare?

She snorted at the ironey and he thrashed around again. Unbelievable. The big scary serial killer had bad dreams? Well, good.

"No," he whispered suddenly. "No."

She watched him for awhile until a hint of guilt began to creep in. She should wake him up. This was too mean.

_Who cares?_ she reasoned. _He humiliated me earlier. He deserves this and worse._

He mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like 'mother' and she laid back down, turning on her side away from him. She was a good person, but she wasn't a saint.

Sometime later, he calmed down and she drifted off again.

XXXXX

Something soft and gentle moved over her bare shoulder. Eyes closed, she smiled sleepily. "HG?"

A hand covered her skin and heat pressed against her back, moving deliciously against her curves. A familiar voice whispered, "Guess again."

What?

The words penetrated her sleep-fogged brain until finally her eyes snapped open and she bolted awake. She turned quickly, and her eyes collided with John's. "You," she whispered. Disappointment flooded her whole being.

He was unsympathetic. "Me," he agreed. One hand gripped her waist tightly to prevent her from moving. "Don't look so upset. It might make me feel bad and then I'll do something rash, like … rip this thing off you." He fingered the peach-colored satin.

"I have to go to the bathroom," she whispered, hoping he'd let her.

"In a moment."

His hand lazily circled the small of her stomach until she couldn't stand it anymore. Any second now, she expected him to touch her somewhere she didn't want him to and that fear was making it hard to think. "Get off me." She grabbed his hand to shove it away, but his reflexes were quick.

In one move, he took her hands and pinned her down on the bed. His dark eyes roamed over her face. She was very aware that only his boxers and her thin nightgown prevented their bodies from actually touching. She could _feel_ him.

"Oh, Jane, you shouldn't have done that. I'm feeling very … _needy_ right now," he breathed, leaning down to trail his lips across her throat. He moved his hips so that the tip of his cock pressed against her center and she wriggled underneath him to get away.

He groaned, wanting nothing more than to shove his boxers down and rip off her nightgown and plunge into her. His breath came in fast and shallow, as tried to get himself under control.

_Damn it all_, was his last thought as he covered her mouth with his and kissed her long and deep. A shudder ran through him as he no longer fought to control himself. One hand slid down her leg to quickly move her nightgown up and out of the way. He needed access to her _now_.

"John, please, don't," he heard her distantly begging. "Please, please, please, don't."

She was so warm. He only had to move his hips a little to the right to be pressed right against her entrance.

_Please, please, please… _It echoed in his head.

"Argh!" he snarled and pushed off her, slamming the door to the bathroom and turning on the shower.

He freed himself from his boxers and moved a hand up and down his aching cock. _Fucking Jane_, he thought, hating that he even cared about her feelings. She deserved everything he gave her, _including_ what he would've done this morning.

God, how had he even stopped himself? Usually, he never denied any of his impulses. He was out of practice and yet somehow, her bleating cries in his ears did something to him. Made him feel what? Guilty?

He glared at himself in the mirror until he finished, shoulders hunching and shuddering as he came. He breathed slowly through his nose until he was able to straighten up.

_Fucking Jane. _

He entered the shower in a foul mood, needing to relieve himself two more times before he was done. Each time, he thought of all the ways he would eventually make Jane scream and not all of them involved his knife.

XXXXX

He'd stopped. Again. Why?

If he was so evil, why had he not just done what he wanted to do and got it over with? Did he want to torture her? Keep her guessing?

She heard him snarl something in the bathroom and then the shower door closed. Now she could relax. He'd be in there for at least twenty minutes and she certainly wouldn't be in the bed when he came out.

She gathered the chain in one hand to keep it from pulling on the collar and stood up. How far did this thing reach?

Not far, as she soon found out. Only about seven feet in either direction. The room was well over thirty square feet. At least, she'd have access to the bathroom whenever she wanted. It was humiliating having to be taken like a child.

She looked over every inch of the space she was given but found nothing to help her escape. No weapon, nothing to cut through a chain, nothing at all.

The shower shut off and she scurried over against the wall. He came out with a towel wrapped around his hips and a scowl on his face. Was he angry with her because she hadn't wanted to sleep with him?

_No_, she thought. _He wasn't that stupid. What woman would possibly want to have sex with him after everything he'd done?_

He dressed quickly, refusing to look at her the whole time, and then left the room.

Was he coming back?

Then across the room a small table she spied the key to her collar. It was about ten feet out of reach, but it was still her only shot at escape. If she could just make something from whatever was within her reach, she could use it to drag the keys off the table and closer to her.

Then she would be free.

**Well … John got off a lot by himself in the bathroom in this chapter. LOL. **

*****Next chapter I'm going dark. It will be a culmination of a couple different things all rolled into one. There will be death. There will be sex. There will be emotional torment. **

**You are forewarned.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Warning: John goes to the dark side this chapter. And the gross side.**

Hot, slick heat poured off him with every kiss. Every movement of her hips against his. The night was dark but young. He thought of Jane sitting all alone at home and then he looked up at the woman straddling his lap. She had medium length blonde hair, nothing like Jane's.

"What's your name?" he asked.

Her lower lip caught between her teeth as she tended to her work. "Teresa."

Teresa. "Interesting. How much for the whole night?"

She slowed her movements and stared at him with a frown. "The whole night? I don't know. More than you can afford, I'm sure."

He smiled. The light glinted off his dark eyes. "Try me."

"A thousand. Up front."

"Will this do?" He took out his wallet and flipped it open. He'd come prepared for tonight. Her eyes widened and she reached out. He snatched her wrist hard. "You'll get it at the end of the night. When I'm finished with you. Understand?"

She deliberated for a moment. "Jerry don't like me breaking the rules. The money's supposed to be up front."

"And who is Jerry?" he asked in a bored voice. "Your pimp, I assume."

"Something like that."

"Well," he shrugged, "if you don't want it…"

"No, wait," she cried, grabbing his arm. "I want it. We can just keep it between ourselves, right?"

His eyes gleamed. Whores were all the same. "I'd prefer that, actually."

She looked relieved and excited all at once. "What now?"

John reached down by his chair leg and picked up a cocktail glass filled with a dark pink liquid. A Cosmo he'd been told. Women loved these. "Now you drink this and we'll get started."

She laughed and took it, drinking a mouthful. "Wow, you sure like to have a good time." Then she looked down and realized she was still straddling him. They'd been mid-fuck when John had started an entirely new conversation. She made to move, but he grabbed her wrist.

"Finish. And don't talk," he ordered.

She quietly set down the glass and got to work, all the while he stared off over her shoulder thinking of all the ways he was going to make Jane cry later. It would be fun.

XXXXX

Concentrating hard, Jane strained her body to the furthest it could go, pulling against the collar to make her arm reach. A long makeshift rope made from sheets and towels, tied to the end of a toilet plunger handle, was the best she'd come up with.

If she tossed the rope just right and it landed right on top of the table and then if she pulled backwards…

"Argh!" she fumed in frustration. She'd missed again.

But the next time she tried, it landed perfectly and she jerked the handle back, pulling everything off the table with it. Her heart leapt in her chest when she saw the key on the floor, a good five feet closer. In fact…

She hurried over and laid down on the floor, using her feet to reach as far as possible. Damn it! She was still a foot short.

Doesn't matter, she thought, grabbing the plunger handle and using it to scoot the key closer. The rug made it harder but she was doing it. She would be free within the hour.

There!

She grabbed the key and hurried to find the keyhole. She worked the key in until there was clicking sound and the collar loosened. She hadn't even realized how tight it was until it was off. She threw it down and massaged her throat.

There was no time. John could be back any second. She went to the window and threw back the drapes. From the bedroom to the wooded area was about one hundred feet. She could easily run that in under a minute, maybe less.

But when she went to open the window she realized it was stuck. More to the point, it was sealed shut. "Godammit!" she hissed in frustration. There was absolutely nothing to pry it open with either. The key wouldn't fit between the-

An idea popped into her brain and even alone she felt sheepish. "Jeez," she muttered, cursing her own stupidity. "I'll just break it." Wrapping a towel around her elbow, she positioned it and turned away, closing her eyes. One hard jab wasn't enough.

Alright, she thought. Give it another go.

Using all her strength, she slammed her arm against the window and then clamped a hand over her mouth to keep from crying out. Had it not been for the extra padding of the towel, she'd have broken her arm for sure.

How? How was it not shattered already?

Jane touched the pane and then knocked lightly against the glass.

"It's bulletproof. They all are, in case you were wondering."

She whirled around and saw John in the doorway, smiling at her. A blonde woman hung off his arm. A hooker, she figured, judging from the attire, although nowadays it could be hard to tell.

Then his words sunk in. Bulletproof? With a cry of anger and frustration, she pounded on the window. It couldn't all be for nothing!

John snickered and came further into the room. He called over his shoulder to someone outside, "Shut the door, will you, Thomas? Also, don't come in here, not for anything. Understand?"

Jane spun back around and edged along the wall to keep away from him. The blonde woman seemed out of it, looking around the room and hiccuping. "Who's she?"

He looked up innocently. "Jealous?"

"Never."

He snorted and poured a brandy from the decanter. He made no comment on the state of the room, nor the lack of her collar. Could she actually escape tonight? He was drunk, so maybe.

"Jane, Jane, Jane," he sighed, "what am I going to do with you? You're clever, I'll give you that."

He downed the tumbler in one gulp, then turned to the blonde. "You, Tracy-It's Tracy, right?"

"Teresa," she slurred, walking back over to him. "I think."

He smiled. "Teresa it is. Well, Teresa, I want you to meet the old ball and chain. This is Jane. Jane, this is Teresa. Teresa is a prostitute."

Teresa didn't seem offended at his less than decorous introduction. She'd had worse. "Is she going to join us or just watch?"

Jane looked shocked, while John slyly glanced at her. "I'm not sure, yet. Jane? A preference?"

"Neither," she snapped. "Leave me alone."

"Oh no," he laughed, "that I can't do. I brought this woman here tonight as a punishment, but now that I see what you've been up to in my absence, well, I won't feel guilty, let's just say."

"If you think that I care who you sleep with you are sorely mistaken." Something in his smile gave her pause, but she brushed it off.

"Good, then you won't mind if we get started. Come here, Teresa." He ordered her with a curve of two fingers and Jane wondered how many times he'd done this in the past. He wasn't uncomfortable, that was certain.

Teresa giggled. She couldn't be more than twenty-five. "What would you like, monsieur?"

"Take off your underwear."

Jane's eyes widened. They were seriously going to… Right here in front of her? Her cheeks flushed in embarrassment. "You can't do that! I'm right here," she almost shouted.

John only smiled lazily and flicked a hand to Teresa.

Teresa tried extra hard to be sexy as she obeyed, but she was either too drunk or too high or both to really pull it off. She had to hold onto the bedpost for stability. Then she tossed her underwear at John who batted it away.

He walked over to Jane's side of bed, ignoring her as she shrank back into the wall, and sat down on the edge, leaning against his hands to brace himself.

Teresa knew what to do. She stumbled over to him and hiked up her skirt. Pale thighs marred with bruises, Jane noticed. The bottom curve of her ass was just barely visible. That too had seen better days. Jane swallowed hard and looked away.

"You want my tits in or out?" she breathed, hoisting one knee up onto the mattress.

John looked nonplussed. "In. Please. Get on with it."

She giggled again. "As you wish, _master_."

Teresa unbuttoned John's pants and tugged them down far enough to free his cock. Jane's face burned and she turned away.

"Wait," he ordered.

Jane couldn't help but direct her attention back at him. Had he changed his mind?

Instead, he took Teresa's head none to gently and tugged it down toward his lap. "Start there." Then he smiled at Jane who shook her head.

"What's wrong with you?"

Teresa's head bobbed up and down, the only thing keeping John from being fully exposed to Jane. He shrugged. "Probably lots of things."

Nausea swam in Jane's stomach. "I think I'm going to be sick." That wasn't a lie either. Bile rose to her throat with every sound and motion that woman made. Could she make it to the door before John caught her?

"Now stop," he commanded Teresa once again. She obeyed and popped off him with a soft wet sound. Jane covered her mouth with a hand. "Come here." He reached for the woman and beckoned her to him. Jane turned her head. How long was he going to torture her?

From the corner of her eye, she saw Teresa mount him, using his shoulders as leverage, and then she sank down, wiggling a bit as she adjusted.

"Oh," she gasped, giggling and moaning all in one. She moved up and down, sometimes rolling her hips. He never said a word or made a noise.

If he didn't care or like what she was doing, why was he doing it in the first place?

To torment you, she told herself.

Once Jane accidentally looked over in concern when Teresa made a strangled sort of moaning noise and she instantly regretted it. Everything was exposed to her. Teresa … and John. She felt hot and sick all at once, but refused to cry. It would be over with soon and then John would probably pass out. He'd leave her alone at least.

"Stop," he suddenly ordered the other woman.

Teresa whimpered and kept going. She was the only one enjoying herself it seemed. He stood up then and dumped her on the ground, not bothering to hide himself from anyone's eyes. "I told you to stop. Get on the bed."

Teresa was eager to please and did as she was told this time, hopping over the bedspread and sprawling out in the middle. Her skirt bunched up around her hips and her breasts had slightly come out of her top with all the movements from earlier.

John turned to Jane and smiled before she averted her eyes. He crouched down next to her. "Are you enjoying the show?"

"You're sick," she whispered, throat dry and stomach heaving. "Why are you doing this?"

"Get ready for the finale," he whispered before standing back up.

Finale? Ugh… She was making a run for it, no matter the cost.

She made a face and looked over at him, but saw a knife sticking out of his waistband. He took it out and flipped it deftly in one hand while crawling onto the bed and over Teresa. The woman didn't see it, probably due to whatever she was on and the desire to screw John some more.

Understanding dawned. _Finale_. Oh my god. "No, please, John don't," Jane begged, moving to stand up. Her back hit the wall. "Please, I'll do whatever you want. Please!"

He merely smirked at her and then began kissing Teresa. He positioned himself between her legs and then began moving inside her. It was only seconds in reality but to Jane it was eternity. He thrust fast and hard. Jane couldn't tear her eyes away.

"Teresa, he's going to _kill_ you."

Teresa didn't even hear her over her own loud moans and gasps. John hooked an arm under one leg and pushed into her harder, raising the knife high above them. Jane screamed for one of them to hear her and stop, but neither did. John turned his head, eyes glazed over, to look at her. His arm came down brutally fast and hard.

Teresa's moans and gasps turned quickly to gurgled wet noises. From Jane's point of view she saw the woman's arms drop and John jabbed over and over, quick and hard. He expelled a loud breath and finished, slowing his movements until he could only collapse on top of the dead woman.

Jane stared at him in horror.

After a moment, he chuckled and raised up on his knees, looking down. Teresa's face was turned towards Jane in death, eyes wide and empty. He sat back on his heels and took a breath. "I've _really_ missed that."

Jane could only stare in numb shock, tears pouring down her cheeks. Vaguely, she knew that John got up off the bed and walked around-doing something. She didn't know what. She could only stare at the dead girl. Blood stained the pillows and sheets, bright and dark at the same time against the white.

"If you try and leave again, I'll bring two more home and give them worse."

"You didn't know I was leaving." Her voice sounded far away to her ears.

He chuckled. "No, I didn't. This, tonight, was just because I felt like punishing you. I shouldn't've given her so many drugs," he mentioned as an afterthought. "A slight struggle would've been nice. Oh, well. Hindsight." He poured another glass of brandy and downed it.

Then his attention was back on her. He gave her a disgusted look. "She was just a hooker, Jane. Selling herself for _money_. Women like her don't deserve your pity." He knelt beside her again and touched her hair. She didn't pull away. Must be shock. "But I knew you _would_ pity her. That's why I brought her."

"You hate me so much that you would do this?" Tears sparkled in her eyes, threatening to spill over. Her voice was nothing more than a whisper.

John's eyes darkened and he took her face and turned it toward his. He wasn't nearly as drunk as she'd first thought. "You think I did this because I hate you? Oh no, Jane. It's because I _can't_ seem to hate you that I did this." Then he stood up and walked away.

**Alright, so I actually didn't like the way I wrote this chap at first (surprise, surprise) and I felt hesitant about posting it. The first scene was added today and the rest was tweaked until I liked it. **

**I didn't want to get super-graphic, but at the same time I suck at writing sex scenes. AND I was trying not to have John come off as rapey even though technically he drugged her with the Cosmo. But upon further thought LOL killing someone you're having sex with DURING the sex and then finishing … is pretty bad too. **

**Oh well. This is Dark John. I have my other John for the good stuff. **


End file.
